


Maybe Daisy

by why_not_jane



Series: People of the Sea [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Mermaids!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-16
Updated: 2015-02-16
Packaged: 2018-03-13 06:51:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3371891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/why_not_jane/pseuds/why_not_jane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>By the ocean, Darcy meets a particularly strange stranger who saves her life. In return, she takes his secret to the grave.</p>
<p>*Reading first story is unnecessary*</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maybe Daisy

The birds were screaming again.

Darcy tried to shove her earphones into her ears. It didn’t help. She could barely hear the beat of ‘Bubblegum Bitch’ over the piercing screeches of what the locals had informed her were ‘rainbow lorikeets’. Their colourful plumage may be easy on the eyes, but kind to the ears they were not. She yanked her ear buds out, and tugged her floppy hat over her forehead, scrunching her face at the sweat soaked brim against her skin. Just her luck she couldn’t take it off for fear of turning the colour of a shrimp - sorry, prawn.

Doing her best to ignore the screams from the tall trees, she scrunched her bare toes deep in the cold layer of the soft white beach sand. The first layer was just hot enough to burn a layer of skin off the bottom of your feet. As with most things, that was a lesson Darcy had learnt the hard way.

Racing down to the beach was supposed to have been a relaxing escape from Jane, who, in their first day under the Australian sun, had her skin burnt lobster red. It made her just as snappy as the clawed creature, but seemed to enforce her work ethic. Darcy scratched her nose, and wondered if Australians had a different word for ‘lobster’ too. 

There was an odd ‘plop’ as something landed in the sand next to her. The white grey dollop of bird crap wasn’t three inches from her towel.

Darcy jumped up, grabbing her towel, “I’m outta here," she snapped. In her hasty escape attempt, she had forgotten how hot the uppermost layer of sand was. She swore. Loudly. And kinda ingeniously, thank you very much.

Unknown to her, a lorikeet had landed on the sand behind her. At her yell, it screamed back madly. Then it stopped, cocked its head, gauging her reaction with it's beady black eyes. Darcy tried to slap the damn thing with her towel as she hopped her way down to the waters edge. It hadn’t even flinched at the heat of the cooked sand, but then, Darcy reasoned, it made sense that demon birds weren’t affected by the fires of hell.

She whimpered, icy salt water cooling her blistered feet. Maybe it was her imagination, but she could swear the water around her steam slightly. If she was gonna make like the Wicked Witch of the West, she figured she might as well enjoy her last moments before melting into a liquid pool. So instead of going back to Jane like a good little intern, she draped her towel over her shoulder and set off down the beach, feet squelching as they left deep imprints in the wet sand.

The scenery was beautifully raw, craggy rocks jutting out from the sand, red and brown seaweed banking up against the shore. About a hundred meters ahead, a massive pile of rocks stood strong out of the blue water, white waves crashing round it.

Darcy grinned. Perfect.

But the sandy shore was dotted with odd indigo coloured bubbles, electric blue strings flowing out from their undersides. For all they looked like blueberry bubblegum, Darcy was smart enough to step over them. This was Australia, she reminded herself. Even koalas could be vicious. And they stank, too.

Nobody tells you these things, Darcy thought crossly, narrowly avoiding slippery patches as she clambered up the rocks.

Koalas stink, the politicians are psychos (not that different from home), the Sun isn’t just hot - it could melt the skin off your bones, and most Australians don’t even have that famed nasally accent.

Okay, so that was a good thing, Darcy admitted to herself. One of the workers at the observatory had the accent. Darcy was going to taser him if he ever so much as opened his mouth in her presence again.

And kookaburras are fucking terrifying.

Peering over the largest rock she looked down. The rocks formed a circle, creating a small pool. Sliding awkwardly down the slippery rocks, she put her feet in the sun warmed pool, and sighed.

“Perfect,” she murmured, feeling like Goldilocks in baby bear’s bed-before they got home. The ocean itself had been freeze-your-tits-off cold (yes, despite the 100F+ heat) and Darcy had been sweating on the sand. She’d finally found a happy medium. She was sheltered in the little cocoon, rocks forming a cradle around her, except for where one rock had broken in half, the top appearing to have lost the war against the waves. It created a window onto the open stretch of seas. The crash of the waves muted the faraway sound of daemonic birds, and the icy spray on her hair was refreshing. Water had washed into little hollows on the rocks and, trapped, the water had evaporated under the hot sun. All that was left where mounds of dried white salt, sun glancing off sharply.

The perfectly clear water sparkled, reflections painting ripples on the rocks.

“Refractions,” Darcy corrected inside her head, in a voice that sounded suspiciously like Jane’s. 

Jane was dashing about a lab, a good walk from here, and had no business in Darcy’s newfound sanctuary. So Darcy told her inner Jane to go be a lobster somewhere else.

In the rock pool, laid a white, conical shell, facedown on the soft sand. Darcy reached to pick it up, thinking she could make a necklace out of it. Or a horn she could blow every time that lab assistant started talking. 

“Put it down!” a masculine voice snapped. Shocked, the shell slipped through her fingers, drifting through the water to land on the bottom once again. Over the broken rock that formed her window out to see, a man, (or at least, the head and shoulders of one) appeared. 

“What the hell, dude!” Darcy yelled, scrambling back against the rock, reaching for a taser that wasn’t there.

His blue eyes drilled into hers, “I was going for a swim to my favourite spot. Imagine my surprise when I found someone was already here,” he said.  
His body (or what she could see of it) was naked, tanned, and muscled as hell, blonde hair pearled with droplets of salty water. But never let it be said that one look from a cute guy (or an insanely sexy one) was enough to leave Darcy Lewis speechless.

“Sorry for camping out in your secret club house, sweetie, but I don’t exactly see a ‘No girls allowed’ sign on the door,” she snapped, planting her hands on her hips (an effort that was lost given her current sitting position).

“I didn’t mean to offend you,” said the man quickly, his cool demeanor gone. 

“It’s just a shock to see someone else here. I didn’t think anyone knew about it.” He stared at her, big blue eyes begging forgiveness.

Not only did he receive it, Darcy fell just a little in love.

She shrugged, “Sorry for getting so pissed off. I think the heats getting to me.” She was not blushing. It was sunburn, or windburn, or some silent type of wasp.

“So, uh, what’s wrong with the shell?” she asked awkwardly.

With a slow, crooked smile, he leant over the rock, lower body still hidden, and grasped the tip of the shell, turning it gently on it’s side. Inside was a tiny, sandy coloured octopus. Darcy would have been able to hold it in the palm of her hand.

“It’s so cute!’ she squealed, “I shall call him squishy, and he shall be mine. And he shall be my squishy!”

Hot and blond threw her an amused, if confused glance, picked up a stick that had been washed into the pool, and poked the adorable octopus. Electric blue circles erupted on it’s skin, pulsating, and it waved its tentacles threateningly. 

“Holy fuck,” Darcy yanked her feet out of the water, holding her legs close to her chest, unaware such a tiny create could look so evil.

“This is Louis,” Blondie grinned, “he’s a blue ringed octopus. His venom is powerful enough to kill twenty-six adults. Leaves you paralyzed, but conscience, till you die from lack of oxygen.”

“Of course it fucking does,” Darcy hissed, giving the octopus an evil glare.

“On the bright side,” Blondie said cheerfully, “you’d never fell the bite!”

Darcy threw him an incredulous look. She was certain she looked ridiculous, with her knees up by her ears.

“He won’t bite you unless provoked,” Blondie allowed, “relax.”

Sure enough, Louis was already climbing back into the shell, and after a minute of amused silence on Blondie’s behalf, Darcy slowly put her legs back in the pool. She stared at Blondie, who blinked nervously. The lower half of his body was still hidden, but hey, the upper half was more than enough to drool over. No complaints here.

“What’s your name? I’m Darcy,” she said quickly, hoping he hadn’t noticed her staring at his wonderful abdominal muscles. Blondie suddenly looked shifty, muscles bunching as if he was about to take off.

“Don’t I get to know the name of my Marlin?” Darcy teased, wondering why he was so alarmed at such a simple question.

Blondie blinked, “What?”

“Finding Nemo? You know, ‘cause my name kinda sounds like Dor- you know what, never mind,” she finished awkwardly. Blondie looked even more confused. But at least he no longer looked like he wanted to run and hide.

“If you won’t tell me your name, I won’t tell you mine,” Darcy finally said, crossing her arms defiantly over her chest.

“You already did. It’s Darcy,” said Blondie, his confusion giving way to an adorable smile. It’s just sunburn, stupid sunburn, Darcy chanted in her head.

“Maybe that’s just the name I tell people who don’t tell me their names,” she tried to bluff. Badly. Maybe she was attempting to flirt. She wasn’t sure.

“All right,” Blondie grinned, playing along, “does it start with a ‘D’ at least?”

Darcy gave a non-comital shrug. 

“Maybe... Daisy?” Blondie smiled, and Darcy smiled back, unable to help herself. 

“Maybe,” she said.

Blondie cocked his head, smirking, “You don’t sound like your from around here.”

“Neither do you,” Darcy countered innocently.

His smile widened, “Guess I don’t.”

Darcy rolled her eyes, “Is there any personal information you can tell me? Keep keeping me in the dark, and I’ll start making assumptions you won’t like.”  
“Go ahead,” he grinned, “assume away, maybe-Daisy.”

“Well, you hang out with a venomous octopus named Louis, so I’m not sure what that makes you, but I’m going to go with not all that bright,” Darcy said matter of fact.

Blondie shrugged, “You’re not wrong.”

“And if you’d rather the company of an octopus, you’re probably not a fan of human interaction.”

“You have no idea,” he grinned, resting his head in his hands. A thought bashed Darcy rather obtrusively in the back of the skull.

“I’m in your private space, aren’t I?” She knew exactly what it was like to be kicked out of your own secret, peaceful hideaway. And she’d gone and stomped all over his. Might as well have planted a flag saying, ‘Darcyland: Peasants, Fuck Off.’

“Hey, no,” said Blondie, “you’re a lot more interesting than the people back home. Not to mention easier on the eyes,” he said, blushing furiously. Okay people, hold your horses. Darcy didn’t want a Squishy. She wanted a Blondie.

“Besides, you didn’t seem to care so much before,” he added.

“Yeah, but I thought you were a jerk. Now I know you’re just stupid,” Darcy teased. Blondie bit his lip, a poor attempt at holding back his grin. Darcy didn’t bother trying.

Carefully, so as not to disturb poor, cute, dangerous Louis, Darcy kicked her foot through the water, splashing Blondie in the face. He let out a deliciously husky surprised laugh, and retaliated with fervour. It was Darcy’s turn to gasp, her clothing suddenly soaked through.

Perfect.

She threw Blondie a playfully angry glance, and slipped off her shirt. The red bikini top had gold binding and string, making the girls look fan-freaking-tastic. (Yes, they were Wonder Woman themed. Let it never be said Darcy gave up the opportunity to show the world her inner geek).

Blondie did not disappoint. 

Wide-eyed staring. Fire engine red blushing all down his chest. Possible drool. Cue staring ashamedly at his hands. Okay, so a gentleman then, but Darcy had lassoed the truth out of him, if only for a second. She could work with that. Just as she was about to make a smart comment - possibly something about coming back between the holidays - a siren rang out.

Darcy squeaked in surprise, and Blondie looked up in alarm.

“Fuck,” he swore under his breath, and using his well muscled arms, he vaulted over the rocks into Darcy’s pool. What followed was not a gorgeous pair of tanned legs but a - tail?

“What the fuck?” Darcy yelled over the sirens.

“Uh, this is probably kinda confusing,” Blondie muttered.

“Not the word I’d have used, but I’ll roll with it,” Darcy mouth said for her. Blondie nodded, expression unsure.

“Okay, first of all, you are not leaving until you have explained all of this,” Darcy gestured to the huge fish-like tail connected to his muscular torso.

“Explain it?” Blondie asked, brows raised, “I’d always thought the tail spoke for itself.”

Darcy couldn’t argue with that.

“Okay, then what’s with the siren?” 

“Shark sighting. It’s been happening to the humans a lot recently, because a whale carcass washed ashore a few miles up the coast. Smell draws the sharks.”  
That would explain his rush to get out of the water. Sharks went after mermen too. Huh.

Another alarm filled the air, much louder and closer than the first. Her iPod alarm was signalling Darcy's eminent departure. 

“I-I’ve got to go. My boss doesn't eat unless I force it down her throat,” Darcy said, sadness filling her at the thought of leaving this attractive stranger who she'd know for only a half hour.

Blondie smiled sadly. “You can invade my privacy anytime,” he told her.

“Careful, I might just take you up on that,” Darcy laughed, clambering up onto the rocks, “and say goodbye to Louis for me, Blondie.”

He smiled at the nickname. “I will. Goodbye, maybe-Daisy.”

* * *

Every day, Darcy went back to the merman’s pool, only to find it empty, except for a rather grumpy Louis. And every day, that sadness grew heavier in her chest. Fear that she'd never see him again. When Jane came out of a science coma, she asked what was wrong. Darcy simply told her she'd met a cute stranger, and forgotten to get his number. She made an unspoken promise she'd never tell a soul about the not quite human man she met by the sea.

The day she was going home, she found herself taking the path down to the secret hideaway for one last glance. Where she had sat was a bright white and yellow daisy, petals perfectly curled. She wondered how he’d gotten it.

“Darcy, hurry up!” Jane called from down the beach.

“Coming!” Darcy stuck the daisy in her hair, skipping all the way down the beach to Jane, who frowned and asked what was up.

Darcy smiled, “Nothing.”

**Author's Note:**

> Do not go near a blue ringed octopus. EVER.
> 
> Feel free to send me any Darcy/Steve mermaid/man/people prompts you would like me to write, either in the comments, or at my tumblr, [why-not-jane . tumblr . com]


End file.
